Our alter robots | The duty

Once a month, The duty challenges philosophy enthusiasts to decipher a current issue based on the theses of a notable thinker.

Getting up this morning, weighed down by a migraine and some aches, I drag myself in front of the mirror where I notice – which is obvious but which I persist in denying – that this body is purely and simply a machine which ages, rusts. and suffers.

Everything is clear about this; science has an explanation for everything. It’s a matter of genes, of connections between neurons, even of digestion, of organs, of hormones, of bones, of muscles, of skin, of electricity, of chemistry, of biology.

Since the arrival of medical technologies – radiography, to scan, imaging, etc. —, we know better this body and this spirit associated with it. The brain itself, although extremely complex, little by little reveals its secrets. I also imagine that a few electrodes well placed on my skull this morning could unravel the mystery of my little ailments.

Perhaps the miracles of pharmacology could also save me from decrepitude, otherwise the idea of ​​undergoing a transformation into a cyborg—a half-human, half-robot creature—suddenly seems an attractive option. Indeed, what problem is there in replacing old matter with new matter?

It is, among other things, this shift towards a psychopharmacological conception of the human being, leading to the loss of the sacred character of one’s inner life, which has made it possible, according to the American psychologist and sociologist Sherry Turkle, to make us consider a rapprochement and a more great familiarity with robots. After all, what is the fundamental difference between us and them, what is the difference between a network of neurons and a network of electronic circuits?

Indeed, “with psychopharmacology, we think of the mind as a machine accessible to bioengineering” and “our therapeutic culture turns away from the inner life to focus on the mechanisms of behavior, creating a possible common point between people and robots. His book Alone together (Alone together) was published in 2011, at a time when robots were much less sophisticated, but the ideas and analyzes it puts forward are more current than ever.

Meet our needs

With the pandemic, we have collectively become aware of the suffering and loneliness of older people. They are among the subjects that Sherry Turkle addressed interested in his research. Our elders demand what many younger people no longer have to offer: time, care and attention.

The same goes for our children, other favorite research subjects of the author. Human relationships are complex and demanding. They require listening, understanding, empathy, investment of time and energy; they respond to mutual and often irreconcilable expectations; they lead to questioning, confrontations, discord, sometimes ruptures, often feelings of helplessness and guilt.

For as long as humans have been what they are, a social animal, their greatest challenge has been reconciling the search for their own happiness with their desire to relate to others. It is perhaps a truism to say that it is not easy to live together.

One of the challenges of human relations is knowing how to react spontaneously to the demands of others, as is the case in a face-to-face discussion. Reacting in real time requires taking and assuming risks, adapting and exposing your vulnerabilities to others.

Indeed, the other, the others are precisely not robots. Humans are by definition unpredictable, fallible, prone to errors of all kinds and blunders.

For Turkle, like social networks and virtual communities where our avatars and screens allow us to keep our distance, robots are another opportunity to protect us from potential dangers in the real world. “Social robots and online life hold out the possibility of relationships that fully conform to our desires. We can program a custom robot, just as we can reinvent ourselves into attractive avatars. » We are immersed here in a world of simulacra, false, constructed from scratch, far from the intransigence of reality.

The author will give us this evocative example of a teenager disappointed by his father’s bad advice and clumsiness. He will dream of a “robot dad” who, using a much more complete database than the limited knowledge of his father in the flesh, could be more knowledgeable, efficient and also make more reasonable decisions.

Responding to a question about a matter of the heart, “there was no doubt that a robot would have been more insightful [que son père] “. We have just discussed two ends of life, childhood and old age, but relationship difficulties are a concern of all ages and circumstances.

Narcissism

Hundreds of millions of human beings unite today with chatbotsconversational robots designed to maintain personal, even friendly, fraternal or romantic relationships with humans.

These robots are veritable echo chambers for their human partners. Indeed, they are designed to meet their desires and expectations, to correspond to their ideals and to resemble them, thus avoiding any suffering and confrontation. They are alter egos, or should we say, alter robots.

After all, who would refuse a flawless, flawless, absolutely perfect partner? Is this new perfection good for us? If it gives us immediate happiness, Turkle will point out that “we can definitely feel good for the wrong reasons.” She will add: “What if a robot made us feel good, but deprived us of essential things? »

We recognize Sherry Turkle’s psychology training when she explains to us that the robotization of the human world goes hand in hand with the increase in the tendency toward narcissism. Narcissistic personalities are only seemingly self-righteous people. They hide extreme fragility and they exploit others, like “objects of the self », to consolidate and harmonize their mental life. “The other is perceived as part of oneself and only exists in harmony with a fragile inner state. »

Robots, “as they exist today and as they will become […] appear as ideal candidates for the role of objects of the Self “. In relationship with a robot, no more discomfort, no more annoyances, no more difficulties in coming together through our unique aspirations. Robots are beginning to lock us inside ourselves in the sweet complacency of tailor-made programming.

We then wonder why social anxiety is gaining ground. Real life is not an echo chamber; you still have to go back from time to time and be caught looking another fragile and unpredictable human straight in the eyes. We recognize here the contours of a vicious circle: the more we use robots, the more difficult it will be for us to enter into relationships with humans; the more difficult relationships with humans become, the more we will rely on robots.

Empathy, authenticity and reciprocity

By presenting this call for caution in the face of the robotization of the world, I assume in advance the criticisms which will push me into the category of doomers. After all, “we can’t stop progress.” Perhaps it is indeed better to board the train rather than tie yourself to the rails to stop its journey.

What is certain is that we recognize in Sherry Turkle’s words her esteem for what she calls authenticity and reciprocity, both linked to the fundamental feeling of empathy, this ability to put oneself in the place on the other, to recognize it, and possibly to progress with it. “A robot, no matter how advanced, cannot possibly understand any of this. »

The more we pour our hearts and souls into our virtual worlds, the more we neglect the uniqueness of relationships between humans. Turkle puts forward what she calls the “romantic” conception of relationships which “held [dans les années 1980 et 1990] in higher esteem what only people had to offer: the understanding that develops when we share a certain human experience.”

Otherness, our encounter with the other, gives us challenges every day, but also opportunities to step outside of ourselves, to grow, and to respond to our most fundamental needs of tenderness and recognition. Robots will eventually make the real world, inhabited by real humans, disappointing and inhospitable.

It is because we look more and more like robots — through our phones, our virtual worlds and networks, our AIs and our personal assistants, and through our new way of representing ourselves body and soul — that we will accept without complaining that robots are becoming more and more like us and that they are starting to take our place.

This meeting point between us and them, what Turkle calls this “symmetry”, will ensure that we stop asking ourselves “Why am I talking to a robot?” and “why do I want to be loved by this robot?” Perhaps we will be satisfied to be under their spell.” Are we obliged to accept this metamorphosis of our being, this destiny and this fatality?

To suggest a text or to make comments and suggestions, write to Dave Noël at [email protected].

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